


Shuttle

by Mister_Spock



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt!Spock, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Spock/pseuds/Mister_Spock
Summary: Spock is injured in a shuttle crash and is dangerously exposed to the life forms on the planet.Can Kirk & co. get to Spock in time?COMPLETE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've changed the idea of this story from when I first posted it. It's just going to be a hurt/comfort fic.

Spock could hear the storm raging outside of the craft. The wind rocked the shuttle slightly, wind howling and if he opened his eyes he could see the rain pelting onto the shuttle. 

He could hear his name being repeated over and over again, coming from the console and he knew he needed to answer it. He unbuckled the safety belt that had kept him attached to the seat, even when the seat had been ripped from its position and thrown around the shuttle. It accounted for the numerous injuries he had accumulated. 

Breathing in deeply was painful, and so he took small, shallow breaths as he carefully sat up and pushed himself out of the seat. He worked to control the pain but more injuries seemed to announce themselves with every move. He ignored them and focused on getting to the comm. It was Uhura who was calling for him over and over and he had o idea how long he'd been unconscious for. 

He ignored the blood on his hands, simply wiped it off on his other sleeve before he took a few steadying breaths. He didn't want to sound so winded from the few steps he had taken to reach the communication panel. 

“Spock? Spock, can you hear me? Spock come in-”

“I am here,” he answered. He heard the gasp of breath and a sob of relief. 

“I am so relieved to hear your voice,” she told him. He heard her calling to someone to get the Captain before her attention was back on him. “Are you okay?” 

“I have been better,” Spock said. He suppressed a cough as best he could, his throat felt raw. The shuttle smelt of smoke even though there was no fire. 

McCoy was there, with Uhura and he was asking her to find out how badly he was injured. “Are you hurt?”

Spock tried to consider if he was injured but he couldn't seem to focus his mind on to his body. He knew it hurt but he hadn't processed more than that. “Yes, I do not believe anything is too severe though.”

“What hurts, Spock?”

He thinks that McCoy shouted that out but he can't be certain. “I don't know.”

Kirk joins the mix of confusing voices. They're all talking at once, not to him, to one another and he can't tell when they ask him a question. Not until someone hushes them all.  
“Spock, it's Jim. Listen to me, we're coming to get you, okay? But we need to wait for that storm to pass first, so hang on.” 

“I shall stay put, Captain.” Spock answers. 

“Good. Now, if the storm passes you need to stay in the shuttle, okay? Don't leave. The inhabitants on the planet are extremely hostile. Is the shuttle secure?”

“I don't know.”

“Okay, well in a minute, if you can, check to make sure the shuttles shut down tight, okay? And then just wait for us.”

He could hear McCoy muttering to Jim “Well what if he can't move?” and Jim replies “Well he needs to try.” They were speaking quietly but not quietly enough. But he could tell they were worried. 

“I will check the shuttle now. I shall call back when I have completed the task. Spock out,” he said and switched off his microphone. He didn't need them to hear him struggle. 

He started to pull himself upwards and it quickly became apparent that most of his right-hand side had been injured in the crash. As he tried to get his feet under him, he felt white hot burning in his lower leg. He could put little to no weight on it and when he used the console to lean his upper body against, he had flashes of agony again. It merged into one blistering pain and he had to wait for it to pass before he could even try and move again. Mostly slumped over the console, Spock used his left side to push himself up a little and move away from the front of the shuttle. He carefully and painstakingly slowly made is way down the shuttle. The door was still closed and he locked it. Grateful for such a small blessing, he continued to the end of the shuttle. There was a rip in the lower corner of the craft.  
Perhaps he could move the ripped seat to block the hole. 

Carefully he moved back to where the seat was sprawled across the door and grabbed it with his uninjured arm. He tugged at it and it barely moved but sent fresh agony through his body. He would not be able to block the hole with anything substantial.  
He reached for the emergency kit and pulled out one of the blankets and covered the hole with that instead. He grabbed another and headed back towards the console where he could talk to his friends. 

He switched the microphone back on and sat in the other seat, the one that hadn't been ripped from it position in the crash. He opened up the blanket and lay it across his body to keep his body warm.  
He didn't say anything to alert the Enterprise he had returned, yet he heard muttered voices, sounding far away. 

“He's back,” was Uhura for certain, though she clearly wasn't at the communication desk as normal. 

“I got it,” McCoy muttered and Spock heard his approach. “Spock? It's McCoy.”

“I know, Doctor. I do know your voice by now.” 

McCoy made a grunted response before Kirk asked him to 'get on with it'. “Okay, so is the craft secure?” McCoy asked.

“The door is secure. But there is a hole in the shuttle.” 

“Dammit,” Jim muttered in the distance. 

“Have you blocked it up?” McCoy continues. 

“Yes. But not adequately.” 

They go back to talking quietly in the background and despite knowing he should try and stay conscious, Spock finds it almost impossible to keep his eyes open.  
He doesn't even hear McCoy as he tries to keep him conscious. 

~

His right leg is fractured. He has two cracked ribs and his right arm is broken in two places between the shoulder and elbow and his forearm is shattered. He has a head wound that is nothing more than a cut but which bled heavily. 

The creature that leant over his unconscious body is curious. The smell of blood drew it to the wrecked craft. Yet when the howling cry of the others pierces the silence, the little creature scuttles away back out of the craft and away to safety. Away from them. 

They were bigger than the other creature who scurried away. Two of them, their oily skin jet black. They moved on all fours for speed but were just as comfortable on two legs. Their eyes were large and round, eyes as black as night. The claws on their hands were sharp as knives, teeth that were razor sharp snapped at the air- the scent of blood exciting them. The sniffed to find the source and crawled over the chair where blood had pooled in Spock's unconscious state upon crashing. But it was cold and uninteresting to them now. They followed the fresh blood scent and the pair of them surrounded the source hungrily. 

Gently the creatures lapped at the flowing blood- one from the head wound and the other Spock's arm. It gently tore the fabric as it licked, exposing more of the flesh and numbing the skin. The other creature abandoned the head wound and sought out the leg and did the same as the other, using it's saliva to numb the appendage while it savoured the taste of blood. Spock stirred but did not wake. When they had numbed the sense enough, they bit into the flesh gently and again feasted on the fresh blood. 

“Spock, you there?” came Kirk's voice over the speaker. 

The creatures shrieked in distress and moved quickly out of the shuttle. Spock was startled awake by Kirk and groggily tried to take in his surroundings. “I am here,” he replied, recalling the events. 

“You wet radio silent for a while there.” 

“I was resting, Captain.” 

“If you can, McCoy wants you to stay awake. Do you think you can do that?”

Spock was distracted by his arm. The torn uniform. The punctures marks of teeth. 

“Spock?” Kirk said again, a little louder. 

“I think something was here,” Spock said. 

“What? You mean something got in the shuttle?”

“Affirmative.” 

“Has it gone?” 

“I believe so.” 

“Spock, you have to try and secure that hole. There's a lot of nasty inhabitants there.”

“I tried before, Jim. I can not move anything to block the hole.” 

Jim muttered a curse under his breath. “Okay, are there smaller, lighter items you can move?”

“I'm not sure,” Spock answered. 

“How badly are you hurt, Spock?” 

Spock hesitated to answer. “Uhura's not here, okay? Just tell me.” 

“Substantially so. It is not life-threatening, but they are limiting my ability to do even the most menial of tasks without extreme effort and pain.” Spock added. “Although they do not feel quite as painful as they did earlier, however, I believe the rest has improved the pain.”

“And it's going to come back if you move about.”

“I believe so.” 

Kirk considered this. “I know this might be hard, but you really need to block that hole. We're getting a craft ready right now and we'll be coming to get you. But I need you to keep whatever is out there out of that shuttle.”

“Very well. I shall do my best.” 

“Okay. I'm going to send Uhura back here so you're not alone. I'm coming to get you, okay?” 

“Understood.” 

“I'll see you soon,” Jim said. Spock did not answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some graphic descriptions of violence here.... not too graphic but more than usual for me and it might be gross.... idk.

When he looked back on it, it should have been obvious. 

He had clearly fallen asleep. His injuries were draining his energy and despite his best efforts, he had not been able to remain conscious while awaiting rescue.   
But he was woken by a large thump on the side of the shuttle. The whole thing moved a little with the force and Spock stayed still and silent, hoping it was a one-off.   
It was not. 

Another forceful thud against the side and Spock was wondering what exactly was outside the shuttle, using such force. He could not wait for rescue in the shuttle if there was something outside. Carefully, Spock removed the blanket covering him and made his way off the chair. His leg was stiff, his arm felt swollen and useless and he kept it close to his body in an effort not to move it too much.   
He carefully made his way to the hole in the shuttle. Whatever was outside was crashing into the side where the door was located. If he could exit the shuttle, Spock believes he can hide in the shrubs and plants surrounding the crash site. 

Carefully looking to the outside of the craft first, Spock moved slowly and gently outside of the craft. It was difficult to move with his injuries and stealth was not his strong point but he did his best. He made careful steps away from the shuttle, trying not to wince at the next crash into it. 

Spock's only plan was to wait in the surrounding area and when the shuttle was clear he would return to it. He wasn't in a position to see what was knocking into the craft and saw no use in knowing what it was.   
Eventually, the noise stopped. He wanted to wait and make sure that it really was clear before he made any movement. That was when he realised it was a trap. 

~

He must have lost consciousness at some point. 

His head throbbed and when he tried to move, he found he was tied down. It was then that fear truly crept into him as he realised that a group of humanoid creatures surrounded him. He looked down at his body to see he was indeed bound across his arm, body and leg. They had tied him tight and all over to not allow him to get any movement. It was smart of them to be so cautious but did not allow Spock a chance to escape them. 

His top had been removed and the pant leg over his injured leg had been almost entirely ripped away, a little fabric still clinging to the top of his thigh. Both of his injured limbs had been left untied but they were numb, strangely so. He could feel no pain from them at all. The humanoids seemed curious about them. Spock noticed a covering across the injuries, almost like a gel, it was thick and he assumed it was why he felt no pain.   
The humanoids stood around him, curiously, but reluctant to get too close until one who seemed to be in charge stepped up close to Spock.   
They spoke a language that was new to Spock, even with as many languages as the federation was aware of. The leader of the group was talking while gesturing to Spock and then he turned to him. Wiping away some of the substance across Spock injured arm, he was handed some sort of sharp tool.   
Spock felt the pain begin to return to the area as soon as the gel was wiped away.   
Scientifically, he was curious about it but knew that right now he was in no position to ponder such things. 

The leader took the tool and cut into Spock's arm. Green blood seeped out of the wound and the leader wiped his hand into the blood and held it out to the others to see. They made a noise- whether, of disgust, excitement or joy, Spock could not tell. More talk followed before the tool was used again, this time across Spock's midsection. He made another cut on Spock's other arm, the uninjured arm and again, they had the same reaction.   
There was a mixture of fear and anger now and the leader grabbed at Spock's face, waved the sharp tool inches from him talking all the while to the others. He released his grip on Spock and turned to his people and Spock hoped that the demonstration with the knife was over. 

The leader indicated to two of the others who pointed to Spock's injuries. On what Spock assumed was the command of the chief, the two others approached, each with some wooden carved bowls. One crouched beside Spock's arm, and the other beside his leg and they both poured the content of the bowl over Spock's injuries. The gel that remained on Spock's arm and the copious amounts that covered his leg started to dissolve with the substance and the pain returned to each limb. Each of the people then produced some sort of brush and started to scrub the area clean.   
The flesh, already tender and delicate, was not treated with the care and gentle touched needed and Spock could not stop the scream that was ripped from his throat, his forearm being the most unbearably painful under the harsh bristles of the brush. They cleaned each limb with medical precision. Spock held back any more cries of pain, though his body shook and trembled with the effort to withstand the cruel treatment. 

When both of them had finished the get up from beside him and stepped away.   
The leader was talking again and Spock felt himself drifting. His limbs felt as though they were on fire, not just where the injuries were but every inch of them. He wasn't surprised with the vigour they had used upon him.   
He didn't realise he'd passed out until there were hands upon him again. He startled as one of the people had raised his uninjured arm, the sharp tool the leader had used earlier and swiped it across Spock's hand, not deep but deep enough to draw blood. He raised the wound to his lips and sucked at the blood, said some words before rising and passing the tool back to the person behind him. The next in line then made their own incision, slightly higher than the last and repeated the process.   
Spock realised they were all lined around him and from what h gathered, they would all take part in this bizarre ceremony. 

He'd already lost a fair amount of blood in the initial crash. From what he had seen, there wasn't too many in this gathering and they were only making shallow cuts. Still, the idea if what they were doing made him nauseous and he tried to hold off on the feeling, ignoring what they were actually doing to him and looking away. 

He thought about the Enterprise. Jim had told him they were coming to rescue him as soon as the storm passed. The rain had stopped and so it must have passed. They couldn't have moved him that far from the crash site and he had to be easy to locate. He didn't except there were many Vulcan life forms on the planet. There were not many in the universe. That thought coming to him so unexpectedly made him baulk and he had to concentrate to not make himself vomit.   
The next in line hesitated slightly, looking at Spock's odd movement and then proceeded on when it realised Spock was to remain still.   
The procession seemed to be almost over thankfully. Maybe they would leave him be. 

~

The craft landed safely not far from Spock's crashed one. There was no reading of any life form in the craft and the long-range scan wasn't picking anything up. The planet's sun was descending slowly and although it wasn't yet dark, a gloom was growing over the landscape. 

Jim had steeled himself as he and Sulu approached the shuttle. Spock's body could very easily still be in that craft. He couldn't help imagine some creature had half devoured Spock. He used the code to unlock the craft door, hoping if anything were inside it would run through the hole that Spock had been unable to cover. 

The craft was in darkness, the emergency lighting had failed and he and Sulu both flicked on the light option on the phasers they both held, ready to shoot anything that tried to attack. Nothing stirred. 

“Spock?” Kirk called out, not expecting any answering. He was met with silence. “Check the front of the craft,” Kirk ordered and he and Sulu split up. Kirk headed to the rear of the craft where the large hole was evident. Easily big enough for plenty to get through, Kirk could see the slight effort Spock had made to cover it by the items that were by the hole and on the ground outside the craft. Something had been in and out that way, or Spock had left that way. It seemed Spock might have been more careful not to have left items scattered on the floor outside. Jim saw the wrecked seat that had evidently had Spock in it when it had come out of the craft docking and crashed him around inside. It lay battered on one side. Kirk attempted to move it and although it was heavy, he could. It gave him a good indication of how hurt Spock was if he didn't use this to cover the hole Spock would not have struggled to move some a thing usually. 

“Found anything, Sulu?” he asked. 

“Nothing but the Commander's blood,” came the answer. There was enough of that on the seat and floor in this section, yet Jim went to see. It didn't look good. “Let's see if we can find a trail. I don't want to be on this planet a minute longer than necessary.”

~

They had placed a gag in his mouth, tied it tightly around the back of his head. They had then tied one from the bottom of his jaw around the top of his head. He could barely move his mouth and feared they were trying to kill him by suffocation. 

He breathed heavily through his nose, fear spiking uncontrollably despite himself. They had started fires around him. He could barely feel the warmth from them, they were far enough away, but he was still trying to process what they were for and every option was horrific. 

More talking and chanting started happening and Spock dreaded what was next. He turned his head listlessly and saw the multiple slices up his whole arm. They had reached from his hand all the way up to the base of his neck and a single one on his neck before they went down the centre of his body, stopping short of his navel. 

The leader started talking to the people again. He was the only one who had not drunk the blood earlier. It seemed the leader was wise enough to let others drink first as he came over to Spock's injured arm and lifted it. It caused waves of pain for Spock and he could do nothing but writhe slightly, tide up as tightly as he was, bound in every way to keep him quiet and still. The leader sliced Spock's shattered arm, deeper than any of the others. He held the arm up high and someone collected some of the running blood into a wooden bowl before the chief held it to his lips and drank it. 

He dropped Spock's arm down.   
Spock tried to keep his responses as muted as he could, not having much choice but the agony this caused him to shudder in pain, eyes leaking tears he could not stop. The leader did not seem to be happy about Spock's display and quickly two of the people responded. More bowls were brought over and a thick honey-like substance but almost black in colouring was scooped up. Each of them wiped the product over Spock's eyes, which he closed as he realised that's where they were aiming for. Although it seemed to look like honey, once it was in place it did not run, instead of sticking unmoving to the area.   
Now blinded and gagged, Spock would have no idea what was coming next. 

His fear increased to literal blind panic. He did not listen to the leader's talking and the cheering of his people. He was heading into a full-blown panic attack, utterly helpless and at the mercy of the people before him.   
His unseeing eyes did not see the leader take a new sharp tool, this blade longer than the last and hold it into the fire, all the while talking before they started a quiet chant. Once the blade was hot enough the leader walked towards Spock. Once again lifting Spock's wrecked arm up he took the blade and swiped it downwards from Spock's bicep down to his wrist, removing a chunk of flesh with the hot blade sealing the wound as it went. Spock's body writhed silently. Again the limb was dropped carelessly and the leader took the flesh removed and stabbed it onto the end of the blade hold it into the flames. 

~

Kirk had a sick feeling in his stomach. 

They had found a trail that leads to the woods nearby. The woods were too dense to find a clear path but they headed in anyway. Sulu had already dealt with two creatures that had tried to attack them and hopefully, they would go the rest of the way without any more incidents. But as they moved on they became more aware of something happening up ahead. The smell of smoke permeated the area and they could hear chanting. 

They slowed down as the sound became louder and they could see the people in a clearing. They both ducked down and watched the group. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening as some of it was obstructed by those watching.   
Kirk decided to move further along so he could see more clearly.   
When he got a better view he felt as though he were winded. 

Spock was tied down and from what Kirk could tell they were cutting strips of flesh off of him and then cooking it over the flames before sharing it. He could see Spock was very much alive, his breathing clear to see even at a distance. 

Sulu had followed behind Kirk and was also witness to their barbaric treatment of Spock. 

“We have to get him out of there,” Kirk said. 

“How, Captain?” Sulu enquired. “We're vastly outnumbered and Spock's not exactly going to run out of there.” 

“They're in a clearing. Maybe the Enterprise can beam him out from there. Look, either way, we can't go back for reinforcements. We just need to move them away from Spock, scare them off.”

Sulu nodded. He had trepidations about the plan but one of them was walking towards Spock and he didn't plan to allow them to lay a finger on Spock again. “We need to go now,” Sulu said. 

When Kirk noticed he nodded. “Stay concealed and drive them out,” Kirk ordered as the pair of them started opening fire. They didn't shoot at the inhabitants themselves. They merely wanted to frighten them off from Spock.   
The humanoids started to shriek at the attack and the majority started to flee, while a few stayed and looked for their attackers. One of them got too close to Spock for Kirk's liking and he stunned it. When it fell to the ground those that had remained ran away too, leaving the area silent besides the crackle of the fires and Spock's laboured panicked breathing. 

Kirk ran over to Spock straight away while Sulu remained on guard. 

“Spock, Spock, it's me, it's Kirk,” he said as he approached. As he got beside him he noticed Spock's eyes were covered with something. He reached to move it off but the product was sticky and unyielding. There wasn't time for that so he moved on to the gags first before the ropes. “I can't get that stuff off your eyes just now,” he explained to Spock as he removed the two gags. Spock gasped in a breath as soon as they were removed. “It's okay,” Kirk assured him. 

“Captain, there's some movement happening in the woods. They might be preparing for a counter attack,” Sulu warned. 

Kirk doubled his efforts on freeing Spock from all the bindings. “Check for beam up,” Kirk ordered as he struggled with the many binding holding Spock. 

“They're trying to get a lock on us, Sir,” Sulu stated. He moved closer to the pair crouching between where the enemy had disappeared and Spock, making sure they had to come through him to get to Spock. Jim removed the last of the binding on Spock's uninjured arm, and the Vulcan almost immediately grabbed onto Jim's tunic and wrapped the fabric tightly in his clenched fist. Kirk placed his own hand over Spock's in an effort to reassure him silently.   
Sulu noticed the gesture but kept silent himself. If he were in Spock's shoes he doubted he'd show as much restraint as Spock was right now. 

“Come on, Enterprise, come on,” Kirk begged. He couldn't imagine trying to get Spock back to the shuttle like this. 

“Standby, Captain,” Scotty told them. 

The next thing he knew, they felt the familiar pull of the transporter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long. I wanted to get it right for the rest of the story and that meant making it have a little substance and not rush it.   
> Hope you like it. :)

McCoy had tried to prepare himself for the injuries Spock had hinted at. He'd never told them specific details, more a gist that the injuries were not life-threatening but hampering movement. There were many injuries that could fall into that category.   
He had been preparing in sickbay, Jim had promised a call when they were on the shuttle but the next thing he knew, Spock was being brought in to him. 

The gurney Spock was laid upon was draped in a sheet and Spock had another thicker blanket over his body.   
The ensigns who had bought Spock in quickly left and McCoy was left alone in the room with Spock. 

The room filled with silence as McCoy blankly stared at the strange substance that covered Spock's eyes. 

“Doctor?” Spock asked meekly, sounding uncertain. 

“Sorry Spock,” McCoy apologised. “I was trying to determine what that stuff covering your eyes is. And how to get it off.” 

“Yes,” Spock sounded uncertain. 

“Okay, let me just run the scanner over you and see what we're dealing with,” McCoy decided. He pulled away from the light sheet that draped over Spock, leaving the thicker blanket still covering Spock. He noticed a slight tremor in the Vulcan which wasn't normal. “Just relax, okay,” McCoy soothed.   
He used the biobed scanner and looked over the list of injuries. 

Spock's shattered arm was the worst injury and the x-rays provided by the scan showed the severity of the injury. That itself was going to take a lot of work. The leg was in bad condition too, but nowhere near as bad as the arm. Everything else was superficial enough. He was still concerned about what the substance was covering Spock's eyes and if that would prove to be tricky to remove. He ran an analysis of it and left the computer to work on it. 

Spock was still shaking and McCoy quickly checked Spock's brain scans. There was a lot more activity than normal and that was never a good thing. “Okay Spock, I'm going to just give you a shot just to help with any potential infections from the planet,” McCoy said, readying a strong sedative.   
Once the hypo was administered, Spock's breathing evened out and Spock's heart rate and blood pressure returned to normal. 

Gently McCoy removed the blanket to get a look at Spock for the first time.   
Even having seen the scan reports and the number of superficial wounds, seeing them for himself was something else. They littered one arm, Spock's chest and the other arm, the mangled, broken one was sliced up all the way down his whole arm. 

Wasting no more time, McCoy got to work healing his injured friend. 

~

Jim had offered to buy Sulu a drink after their ordeal on the planet. 

They were both a little numb to what had happened and both needed to share the ordeal they had been through together before they confronted anyone else. 

Seeing someone you worked with every day, but who you also considered a friend, sliced up the way Spock was had been troubling. Knowing how injured he had been from the crash already and then seeing those natives treat him so badly had been upsetting for certain. Kirk was glad he had refused Uhura permission to go, no matter how pissed she was about it. 

“Do you think it was some sort of ritual?” Kirk eventually asked. 

“I don't know,” Sulu replied, finishing the drink in his hand. “I guess it seemed more like a ritual. But maybe that's how they eat their meals. We have no idea about the culture on this planet really.” 

“I'll be adding some notes soon enough,” Kirk remarked. He sighed and said “I feel guilty for even thinking this but it keeps coming to me over and over again- thank God it was Spock. Thank God it's someone who can control his emotional response to what happened and then I feel awful that on any kind of level I'm pleased it happened to him.”

Sulu took in Kirk's statement and considered it before replying. “You know, I never even thought of it like that, but you're right. If it had been me in his place I'm not sure I would ever fully come to terms with it. Trusting people again, going on away missions and landing parties. I don't think I could. But you're right. Spock doesn't have the capacity to distrust like that. And it's not like thinking these thoughts means we're pleased it happened to him. It was an awful thing. But he's strong and he'll be okay.” 

~

McCoy had no idea how long he had worked on Spock for. 

He knew if he asked one of his nurses they could tell him, but he wasn't inclined to find out. It wasn't that he was badly injured, truth be told, it wasn't life-threatening anyhow but the substance on his eyes had been a nightmare to remove and had taken a huge chunk of time.   
He had been terrified to find out what was under the substance whether they had inflicted wounds upon Spock's eyes of is the substance had reacted with them in any way, but they appeared to be just fine. There was definitely no physical injuries and that was a huge relief. 

Once that was done, he set about on healing Spock's injured leg first. It was a pretty straight forward fracture, with some extra damage from cuts and tears to the flesh which he suspected were not caused by the crash. He could only advance healing on broken bones so far, but a Vulcan's bone density was so thick compared to a human, that it would still be very weak. However, Spock would be able to bear weight on it much quicker with the level of healing McCoy was able to administer.   
The cracked ribs he'd allow to heal naturally. They would not affect Spock adversely and the breaks were clean. He also wanted to leave the natural healing to make sure Spock didn't and do too much too soon and broken ribs were a great way to slow anyone down. McCoy heals the top of Spock's right arm, the breaks still clean and in place but he has to open up the lower arm and work the bones into shape like a macabre jigsaw.   
By the time he was finished with that, his back was sore and he had a headache coming on. With a few minor patch-ups still to be done, he handed the job over and retired to get some rest. 

~

The room was cool. 

Not unpleasantly so. Maybe a little cooler than the ship's ambient temperature and much cooler than Spock would choose for his own quarters but not unbearable in any way. 

He opened his eyes and, as expected, he was in sickbay. A flash of memories came to him and he looked down at himself. His badly injured arm, the one that was shattered in the crash landing, was lightly wrapped in a dressing which Spock knew would not only keep the bones in place but would speed up the healing process. His head felt fuzzy and numb and he knew it was partly due to the medication McCoy had administered. He likely would have gone into a healing trance otherwise but he knew McCoy seemed to dread the idea when Spock had casually mentioned it before. He'd not said it in words exactly, though he had voiced concerns over it, his body language had said enough.   
Spock would have to discuss the matter with McCoy further and see what exactly it was that he feared about the process. Spock certainly wouldn't be waking in such poor condition still if he'd been in a healing trance. 

He could hear a nurse humming away while working somewhere out of sight and seeing no other restrictions, Spock began to sit up from his mostly flat position.   
He knew it was a mistake as his ribs protested. However, he pushed through the pain until he was sat upright and carefully moved his legs over the side of the bed. He saw his leg was wrapped in the same material that was on his arm. Perhaps, attempting to get up wasn't going to be such a good idea, he surmised. However, he was more or less there and he decided to go through with it.   
Gently, he lowered his uninjured leg to the floor first, and then let the other leg touch the ground apply a small amount of weight until his leg protested.   
He was still heavily leaning against the bed in some lame attempt at an upright position when a voice cut across the room. 

“Are you actually kidding me?” 

Unmistakably McCoy. Spock sighed inwardly but didn't retreat to the bed. “Doctor,” he greeted instead. 

“Where exactly are you going?” 

“Does where I was intending to go have any effect on where you shall make me go?” Spock asked. 

“You're right, back in bed.” 

Spock remained half leaning on the bed as he considered the easiest and least painful way to return to the bed. McCoy walked over, arms folded so he was stood at the end of the bed and continued to watch Spock. 

“You didn't think this through, did you?” McCoy said. 

“I did not intend to return.”

“You think I wouldn't have noticed a patient going missing?” 

“If I were already in my quarters, bringing me back would be unnecessary.” 

McCoy just scoffed at that as he moved over to Spock and helped Spock back onto the bed as painlessly as possible. “Isn't that better?” McCoy asked as Spock lay back down. Spock stayed quiet but even McCoy could see the lines of pain that had been present slowly fade as Spock's face relaxed.   
McCoy adjusted the bed so Spock was in a bit more of an upright position but was mindful of his ribs.   
“How's that?” McCoy asked. 

“That is adequate,” Spock replied. 

McCoy knew Spock well enough to know that in Spock language, it was good enough. In any other patient, except a Vulcan, you could mistake the word adequate as a bad thing. “So you're feeling okay then?”

“Fine. If I could be permitted a PADD Doctor, I could make my report.”

“There's no rush for that,” McCoy dismissed. It was subtle, but he saw something change in Spock's eyes. “But, Jim is on his way down to see how you are and if he has no problem with it, as long as your careful with that arm, I guess it's fine.” 

Spock nodded slightly and said nothing. 

McCoy had come to learn that just because Spock didn't process and show emotions as the rest of them did, being part human, he still had to deal with them. Writing a report, where, in his own way, he could vent about the situation, had been something he'd seen time and time again being useful for Spock.   
If Jim had a bad mission, it was a trip to the bar with McCoy and a good long chat. For Spock, it was a report, detailing everything. Revisiting any trauma he experienced in such a detached way seemed to be helpful and as long as Spock benefitted from it, there was no reason to cease doing it. Of course, just because McCoy had noticed it, he'd never mentioned it to Spock. He didn't want to do anything that might make Spock question his own coping mechanism and over analyse it. 

~

Spock was allowed back on light duties. 

He'd made a full report and submitted it to the Captain and that was the end of it.   
Except it wasn't. 

Spock was bothered about one thing still and that was his reaction to fear. He had not managed to control himself, he had allowed the fear to overtake him. He had blamed his human side initially but when he considered it more he felt it was due to his own of focus on meditation. It had been lacking recently. He had spent his free time with Uhura or playing chess with the Captain and he had pushed meditation to one side. It became something that he would fit in around other activities rather than something he prioritised.   
He would give it the same importance as eating from now on. 

~

“So what's eating you?” Bones asked.

“Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you,” Kirk said, taking another drink of the beer in front of him. 

McCoy scoffed but didn't push it. He knew Jim, knew he'd spill his guts soon enough. A few more gulps of beer later and a little more brooding and it finally came to light. 

“So before Spock had that crash, we'd been playing chess three times a week at least. Since he got back and returned to duty he has mentioned it once. And when I mentioned it, he shot me down.”

“You're sulking because Spock won't play with you any more?”

“No, I'm pissed because he blames me for what happened to him. I blame me too.” 

“Wait, how did we get to it being your fault exactly?”

“I should never have sent him on that shuttle alone. And I should have got to him quicker.”

“Look, I don't know why he doesn't want to play chess right now. But it's not because he blames you for anything. Just talk to him about it. I'm sure they'll be a logical reason. It's Spock.”

~

Spock couldn't really explain what it was like to be in meditation. 

He knew meditation was important as a Vulcan to keep his mind in order. But he'd heard humans talk about meditation as well. And so he ended up with a belief for many years that meditation was important for humans, not as important as it was for Vulcan's but still something that they all did from time to time. 

Once he started dating Uhura he soon learnt that wasn't the case at all. 

“What's meditation like?” she asked him one time. 

“It is not easy to articulate. Perhaps you should tell me how meditation feels for you and I will be able to determine if there are any similarities.” 

“Spock, I don't meditate.”

He had stared at her for a second longer than what had seemed acceptable before simply saying “Oh. I had heard humans talk about meditation and had assumed it was something you all practised.”

Being in meditation was one thing but being in deep meditation and have someone disturb you from it was quite another. He had been loud as soon as he entered the room and seemed to be somewhat inebriated, making him loud. Spock was aware of him in a way that he would never be under normal circumstances. Of his smell, his sound. He could hear his breathing, his heart beating, he could smell the sweat and liquor all at once. 

When Spock's eyes finally opened, Jim was crouching in front of him, peering at him confused.   
The rooms gentle glow from the candles was diminished with quick voice commands from Spock. He set it to ship standard rather than his own preferences. He had the room too hot and too bright for most human companions to truly feel comfortable. 

“Jim,” he stated simply. 

“Hi,” Jim answered. Like this was a normal situation. 

“I take it you require something.” 

“I just need you to know that I know you blame me for what happened and that's okay because I blame me too and I just hope we can still be professional when we're working together. What am I saying, of course, you're going to be professional? So... I'll be professional too, okay? You don't have to worry.” 

Spock, in normal circumstances, would have told Jim that, technically speaking, it was highly unprofessional to drunkenly disturb one of your fellow officers to tell them how professional you were planning to be. But he also knew that Jim was upset about this and such comments would be unhelpful.   
“I do not blame you, Jim.” 

“You don't even know what I'm talking about,” Jim replied, defensively. 

“It does not matter. I look at you and I see my friend. I do not feel anything else from you but warmth and trust.”

“I-” He exhaled, as though all the fight had been knocked out of him and it had. Spock's words had hit him hard. He knew that the whole 'Vulcan's can't lie' thing wasn't exactly true, but he also knew that lying wasn't something that they did flippantly. He believed Spock. The second the words left his mouth he believed him. “I'm sorry,” He didn't know exactly what he was apologising for, but he said it anyway. 

Spock, who had remained seated on the floor throughout, finally got to his feet. Meditation was truly over for the day. He held his good hand out to help Jim up and he took it, even though Jim did not use it to pull himself up. Even though Spock's words had calmed Jim's doubts, the skin to skin contact still gave the real source of Jim's doubts away- the lack of chess.   
Jim was in no state for chess today. But there was always tomorrow. 

“I have been using the extra time to meditate recently,” Spock told Jim. “I believe that I am ready for a more mentally stimulating challenge. If you are free tomorrow that is.”

Jim stared at Spock for longer than was necessary before he spoke. “Did Bones come and see you before I got here?”

“Doctor McCoy?” Spock asked, confused. “I was meditating before you got here, Jim. I saw the doctor this morning and an arranged checkup. May I ask why?”

“It doesn't matter. Tomorrow, right? Normal time?”

Spock nodded slightly.

“Okay, I'll let you get back to your.... stuff,” Jim said and walked over to the door. It opened at his approach and he stepped forward, pausing in the doorway, he turned back to his friend. “Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“I'm going to kick your ass this time.” 

Spock smiled in that way he did. It was all in the eyes and you had to know him to see it.   
And Jim knew him. He saw it. 

As Jim walked away he just heard Spock's response of “We shall see,” float after him and Jim's smiled managed to grow even bigger.


End file.
